


Peppermint Gum

by writingsfromafangirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bisexuality, Falling In Love, Gay, Happy, Letters, Love, Love Confessions, One True Pairing, Relationship(s), Romance, True Love, idk man, read it thnx, sort of happy i guess
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-03-25 19:58:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3822886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingsfromafangirl/pseuds/writingsfromafangirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Encountering people everyday is natural for humans. Some of us don't take notice to the person we bumped into, or even shared a piece of gum with. Except for Dean Winchester. His gum sharing encounter with Castiel became one moment he will always store in the back of his mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> yooo hello. This is my second story because i feel in my soul my first story flopped. soooo here you go. I got this idea after I saw the word "mint" on my computer screen (don't even ask omg) 
> 
> I'll do my best to actually upload regularly i promise xoxo

_Dean_

Late. Late. Late.

That was the one word that ran through Dean Winchester's mind as he sat in traffic. It was especially worse being stuck behind a semi. It made him feel like the city was enclosing in on him. 

Late. Late. Late.

There was that word again as he looked at his watch. 

Perhaps he could walk to his job from here. It's only maybe 8 blocks away. 

But then his car would be left in the middle of the street. He would single-handedly become the new reason the rest of New York did not make it to their job on time. 

Groaning, Dean banged his head on his steering wheel, the horn blaring loudly, fading out with the cars behind him making the same noise.

Suddenly, Dean felt himself drifting off to sleep...

 _HONK_.

Dean shot up. To his amazement, the semi in front of him was making good speed. Dean blinked a few times.

_HONK._

Oh, right. He was driving. 

Hitting the gas petal, he mentally apologized to New York for becoming the obstacle he feared of being. 

***

 "Late."

This time the word was being said out loud. And by Dean's horrendous boss.

"Traffic."

Conversations this early should always be one worded, Dean thought.

"Not an excuse."

There goes to one worded conversation rule.

"You called me into the office hours before I'm suppose to be. I didn't know the traffic situation." Dean snapped.

His boss was emotionless, as always. It was a blessing and a curse.

A blessing because then you never got disapproval or appreciation. You were neutral.

A curse because you could be fired at any moment without any signals beforehand.

"You suck at excuses," came a whisper behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at the unknown source. It was his brother Sam. 

What?

Why was Sam in his work building? Why was Sam  _even_ in New York?

Dean looked at his boss for an answer to this nonsense.

"Don't look at me. I'm not in your family." His boss defended then left for his office.

Dean was forced to now full face Sam.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" He gave out a sarcastic chuckle.

"You're coming home." Sam declared.

"We're having this conversation again?" Dean sighed and walked over to the break room, where he poured himself a cup of coffee with countless packets of sugar. It was early.

"This is a completely different conversation."

"Really? This isn't you coming up here again to take my life away from me because of some jealous rage you have? Because you work 9 to 5 in the middle of nowhere?" Dean turned to the window over looking the city. The office was about 30 stories up. Everything below seemed irrelevant.

"Dad is dead." Sam blurted out. The intensity in the room shot up. Dean was forced to look at Sam. To look at his brother, all sad and furious.

"What?" Dean stuttered.

"Dad is dead." Sam repeated.

As if on cue, Dean's coffee cup fell to the floor. As did his heart.

"Maybe you can sit and listen now?" Sam's short temper only ever came out with Dean. Dean used to pat himself on the back for provoking it but now he was washed over with regret.

Dean obeyed Sam's request and sat at the small break room table. 

face him, Dean tried to study his brother. Study his face to find any clue of what had happen. Had this death been sudden? An accident? Was this bound to happen within a few days? He had such little conversations with his family he had become lost.

"They don't know what exactly killed him."

that made everything worse.

Perhaps this was a dream. Maybe, Dean was peacefully asleep in bed and having a nightmare after eating too much Chinese food before bed. Maybe he was sat up in his chair, dozing off after a marathon of old crime shows.

To check, Dean pounded his hand on the table, making Sam jump.

Nope, he was defiantly awake.

"You have to come home!" Sam screamed. Once again, being one of the only things in the world that can break out Sam's short temper was not rewarding right now.

"I can't go home." Dean retorted.

Actually, Dean had nothing keeping him from home. It was just the thought of packing a rugged suitcase and dreadfully dragging it all the way to his own dad's funeral. It was if he himself was on the path to death. It was haunting. 

"Yeah, well, you'll be fine. Your boss already gave you the time off." Sam scoffed.

Leave it to the bastard to finally give him time off right when it he didn't want it.

He was finally at the end of his excuses. Sam was right, he did suck at them.

Dean sighed. "I didn't expect my trip home was going to be fueled by dad's funeral."

"I didn't think my trip to New York would be fueled by it either but here I am."

Dean had to agree. 

"Alright, I'll go back, for a week. Basically, dad's funeral then I'm out."

"Wouldn't expect it any other way." Sam chuckled. 


	2. Chapter 2

_Castiel_

Castiel was awake but not awake.

Being up at noon was having the affects on him as 7 AM does.

But why had he been awake all night? Oh, that is because he had no permanent job. Yes, the little town of Lawrence, Kansas had not been kind to him.

He originally moved out here to go to college. Lawrence was just about 10 minutes from the University of Kansas, seeming like the perfect quaint town to live in, avoiding the intimidating dorm rooms.

However, that was when he was actually in college and still a teenager who said "Your time will come tomorrow!" day in and day out.

Now, his daily motto said "Find a way to pay rent."

He gave up on his "time".

Now, don't look at him like a homeless man, no really, he found jobs. Whether it was mowing lawns, shoveling snow, setting up the alter at church, he scraped up his dollar irregularly.

It was really pathetic to anyone looking from the outside. But looking in at his life, it made sense.

Groaning, Castiel made his way out of his bed. Well, it was barely a bed. It was just a mattress on the floor. Very comfortable, though. 

He blinked his heavy eyes rapidly as he took five steps to his kitchen. 

The only good part about a two room apartment was that everything was right next to each other. He slept in his kitchen and ate in his bedroom.

 He hastily made a pot of coffee and ventured to his patio.

Out there sat the morning mail. No mail box so the postman just sat it on the ground. 

Castiel shuffled through the mail while moving back into his kitchen area. In the pile of white envelopes sat a bill or two and a letter from his ex-girlfriend.

The letter wreaked of desperation. 

He tossed it into the trash.

Plus, he found writing letters so intimidating. They never held any good information. No, they were too dramatic. Too Sylvia Plath for Castiel.

Carrying a newly made cup of coffee, Castiel went back to sitting on his "bed".

Today, he knew he had at least one job lined up. It was small, just washing dishes at a diner, but still paid 5 dollars an hour.

Days like these are when he is forced to figure out how making 5 dollars an hour excited him.

That wasn't even minimum wage.

This town was still stuck in the 90s.

Castiel felt like screaming. What good it would've done, he didn't know. It just felt appropriate.

However, instead of having a mental breakdown, Castiel hopped into the shower.

***

 The drive to the diner seems almost depressing. It was those last few minutes of peace before actually taking on responsibilities. 

Castiel parked his barely running car next to a shiny vintage one. He didn't know the exact maker or name, all he knew was it was black and given the age, still in better condition than his.

Him and the man on the passenger side got out at the exact same time. Both of them nearly getting knocked off their feet.

"Sorry," the man grumbled and began his way up to the diner.

Castiel mumbled a, "it's alright," under his breath then proceed to follow the man up to the diner.

He was greeted by Greta, an older waitress, by was always the nicest.

Castiel gave her a quick hello as she tossed him his apron.

"Slow business?" Castiel lingered at the counter, once again at a strange attempt to avoid responsibilities.

"Just those fellas," Greta motioned to the men he ran into outside the diner. They kept exchanging angry looks at each other, Castiel noticed.

Shaking it off, he went to the dish washer off the kitchen.

***

Half way through his shift, Castiel peaked out to the eating area, finding the two men still sitting in the same booth.

Greta caught him staring and whispered, "5 cups of coffee."

He was barely surprised by this.

As he turned back to continue his work, from behind him a deep voice, Castiel heard one of them men say, "YOU'RE LUCKY I'M EVEN HEAR."

Whipping his head around, he just saw the same man who had bumped into him storm off to the vintage car. The second man in the booth sat there, fiddling with his phone. 

Castiel was forced to wonder why he even stayed in Kansas. 


End file.
